Legend of the Scythe-Meister
by Mercury Soul
Summary: "Come, children, and let me tell the legend of Scythe-Meister Maka and her famous partner Soul Eater and their friends. The story is true, you know. I know it may not seem like it, but it didn't happen all that long ago..." Somewhat AU. As chaos threatens, the strength, friendship, and courage of the students of Shibusen may be all that stands between the world and destruction...
1. Prologue: Old Storyteller

**Author's Note-** For anyone who may also be in the Avatar: The Last Airbender fandom, you might know me better as The Melon Lord Approves. If that's the case, keep calling me Melon. If that's not the case, you can call me Mercury. Or Melon, that's fine, it works out either way. I'm new to Soul Eater but not to fandom. What I mean to say is, this is not my first rodeo. I've been in the fanfiction game for years, and by this point I don't always completely suck. I've seen the SE anime (twice in the course of a week because I have no self control) and I'm working on the manga and I just have a profound need to write ~le fanfic~ so here I am.

I'm trying something different with this fic. Let's see if the experiment pays off. I don't think I'll say too much about it just yet, because I'm flying by the seat of my pants more than usual here, but I do have something in mind so bear with me. For now, all I'll say is that this is an ensemble piece with Soul and Maka as the focus, and something of a reimagining of the world of SE. Sort of. Partially. Just roll with it, okay?

* * *

**Prologue: Old Storyteller**

* * *

It begins as it always does during the week-long summer festival. As the bonfires in the park blaze up into the gathering dusk, as they have on this week every year since long before I was born, the fires now lit that will be kept carefully burning until the week is up, the most curious of the city's children creep up to me. It is an unackowledged tradition and one I am well used to. I pretend to be surprised by their appearance at my side and they pretend- at least, the older ones do, who have done this before and know how it goes- not to know just exactly what story I have for them. I know many stories, some belonging to me and mine, and some I've borrowed from strangers, but on this particular week there is only one story I would dare to tell.

As the sky shades from lilac into a deeper dark, the young ones approach from all across the park, gathering around me where I sit in my old lawn chair, waiting patiently.

_Come now, gather 'round children. _

_Yes, that's right, come here. Don't be shy, I don't bite._

_Here, now. Why don't you all sit in a circle so I can see your faces? My eyesight isn't as good as it used to be._

There are some unfamiliar faces, little ones as young as four and five, who had been too young before to come sit with their older siblings and their cousins and friends as I told this story last year at just this same time.

It still amuses me that this role has fallen to me. I grew up listening to Gran tell this story, never imagining that it would be my turn one day, but here I am.

It has been many years since I felt nervous about doing the tale justice.

_Well now, young ones, what story shall it be tonight? Something happy? Sad? A love story? A historical drama? A tragedy? An adventure story? Something bittersweet? Romantic? Scary? What tickles your fancy?  
_

_Something that's a little bit of everything, hm? Did you have something in particular in mind?_

_Oh really now. That old thing again?_

_I suppose it _is_ the right time of year for it, isn't it. Goodness, I don't know how you little ones don't get tired of hearing it by now. Don't give me that face, Laila, you can't possibly be objecting to being called little yet at your age!_

_Eh? What was that?_

_What do you mean 'how do you know I'm telling the story right?'_

I smile. There's one every year.

_Does anybody remember why I'm the one who always tells this story to you at this time of year? No? Or are you all just too shy?  
_

_Well, let me tell you how I learned the legend of Scythe-Meister Maka and her famous partner Soul Eater and their friends. The story is true, you know. I know it may not seem like it, but it didn't happen all that terribly long ago. Less than two hundred years ago, in fact. Now, my great-grandmother was Liz Thompson- yes, Laila, _that_ Liz Thompson- and she was there for most of it. What she didn't see firsthand she learned about later. And she told all of it to me for the first time when I wasn't much older than all of you. I heard the legend straight from someone who witnessed it herself- who was _part_ of it.  
_

I offer them all a broad grin and prepare to ask the familiar question. I already know the answer, but I have to ask. It's all part of this unspoken tradition of ours.

_Alright then, where would you like me to start? __How about the moment that Soul Eater faced his greatest test as a Death Scythe? No? Perhaps a little earlier, then. _When our present Lord Shinigami, then known as Death the Kid, first encountered the wizard Eibon, perhaps? Even earlier?

_From the beginning, you say? Oh, I don't know about that. I think going all the way back to the beginning, when Maka was just a baby, might be a little bit boring, don't you think? After all, things didn't start to get interesting until she entered Shibusen and met all the other heroes of the tale._

_What? Now I'm surprised at you, Michael! I'm not being silly at all, I-_

_Oh, very well. I suppose I understand what you mean._

I wink at the cheeky youngling who interrupted me, as someone always does.

_When you put it that way, I guess the story really begins not long after Maka first met her future partner..._

I settle back more comfortably in my chair, preparing for the first leg of a journey that will take us every evening for the full week of the festival to complete, as it has for many years before and will for many years to come. It's time for the legend to begin again...


	2. Joining (Us vs The World)

**Author's Note-** Hi guys! I figured I should let you guys know right off the bat that I'm a full-time employee (on third shift, so my sleep schedule is weird as hell) and a full time university student, in addition to trying to pretend like my social life isn't dead and keeping up with the long-term fanfic project I'm working on in the AtLA fandom. However, I'm going to do my best to keep updates on this fic _regular_, although I can't promise that they will be _frequent_. Just letting people know this beforehand so that you don't go a month or two without an update (I guarantee it will happen) and start thinking I died or something.

* * *

**1: Joining (Us vs. The World)  
**

* * *

_I suppose it all _really_ began when our heroes were all still quite young, right around the time most of them had partnered up. Of course, Death the Kid had been partnered with my great-grandmother and great-great aunt for some time before that, but they didn't come into it until later.  
_

_I know some of you have older siblings at the Academy, so I'm sure you know by now that finding a partner is not always an easy task. For a weapon and meister, their ability to work together as a team is of utmost importance. Compatibility is not a nice bonus the way it is with coworkers in any other field, it is a matter of life and death on a daily basis. _

_Most important, of course, are the soul wavelengths themselves. If a weapon and meister have incompatible wavelengths, they are not fit to be partners and incapable of working together safely. That is usually the first thing considered when selecting a new partner and it's what most people think of when thinking about the match between weapon and meister.  
_

_What people don't consider as often, though, are the other factors that go into the strength of a match. A weapon and meister pair must be compatible emotionally as well. No matter how strong the soul resonance is, if the weapon and meister cannot get along enough to cooperate, they can't be expected to work as a team and that makes them useless in battle. _

_Furthermore- yes, Laila, there's _more_ to compatibility, I told you it wasn't easy didn't I?- a weapon and meister must be physically compatible as well. Magic weapons are quite different from ordinary weapons, of course, but that doesn't mean a weapon's size and weight while in their weapon form can be ignored. Although training can help in some cases, a meister would do well to think twice before partnering with a weapon too large and heavy for him or her... or conversely, too light. A meister built like a brawler would do better to choose a melee weapon like a sword or hammer, not a distance weapon such as a bow, for instance.  
_

_Some partners come together easily, the way Ox Ford and his partner Harvar did, or by chance encounter, the way Kirikou Rung stumbled across the orphaned girls who became his weapons, but- _

_What's that, Li? You'll have to speak up, dear, I can't hear so well these days._

_What do you mean, you want to hear about Soul Eater, already? His other friends are important, too, you know. If even one of them had made different choices, your life might be very different today. Why do you think we celebrate this festival each summer in their honor, hm? Are you sure you don't want to hear about how the great Black*Star found his legendary weapon, Tsubaki... or perhaps it was her that found him, actually. Really, I'd think you of all people would want to know more about Black*Star, Li.  
_

_No? Alright, very well. Impatient boy...  
_

_Well, when Soul Evans- he only changed his name to Soul Eater after he arrived, you see- came to Shibusen he was right about your age, not more than eleven. And he, much like the girl who became a legend right alongside him, had a bit of a difficult time finding a partner who would- or even _could_- work with him...  
_

* * *

Soul had discovered within a week that his plan of going solo was doomed to fail. It shouldn't have surprised him that it was a pipe dream. Most of his plans turned out to be, eventually. But this, he had thought, might just be different. He'd read a story in the newspaper, a feature piece about an eighth-year Shibusen student by the name of Justin Law who was on the verge of becoming a Death Scythe... _without_ a meister. It was an inspiration and the final grain of rice on the scale that tipped his decision in favor of applying to this place in the first place. He probably would have tried anyway, but Justin's story had cemented his determination. After all, if some blue-eyed blond who looked like a damn choir-boy could pull it off solo, surely he could too, right?

Apparently not.

Maybe some weapons could wield themselves, but he'd found out all too quickly during preliminary sparring sessions that were part of the pre-enrollment boot camp that he was not one of them. If he was gonna be any good at all at this, he was gonna need a meister. And since, two weeks into the semester all unpaired students were invited to some sort of convention to try to get everybody matched up, here he was at three in the afternoon on a _Saturday_ skulking around Shibusen and regretting ever setting foot out of his door that morning.

Six.

That was how many potential partners had rejected him in ten minutes or less. Three were understandable, because upon experimentation their soul wavelengths had been totally incompatible so it never would have worked. One, a nervous girl with black hair easily three inches taller than him, had been able to resonate with him but had bailed the second he grinned and she got a good look at his teeth. The fourth had been a guy named Cleto who had the right build to wield a scythe but after twenty minutes' conversation, had abruptly announced that he 'didn't want to partner with such an asshole' and went after a pretty brunette who was some kind of demon lantern or something. The sixth girl had seemed like she might be a decent match. Good soul compatibility, she wasn't annoying or anything, and she knew who Count Basie was so that was a plus. But she walked off all of a sudden with no explanation and showed no sign of coming back. What was up with that, anyway?

By that point, most of the students who had filled the school's convention hall since that morning had partnered up and filtered out and not many were left. He was running out of options. He had been contemplating approaching that pink-haired chick with the hard eyes to suggest they test out their compatibility. He'd have preferred to pair up with a guy just so things wouldn't get weird or anything, because drama was not cool at all, but he was quickly losing the opportunity to be choosy. Besides, Pinky looked like she had some steel to her. Before he could move from where he was slouched against the wall though, the lantern weapon Cleto had ditched him for reached her, brushing long hair shyly out of her face as she spoke too softly for him to overhear. Pinky held out a hand and the lantern took it, phasing into weapon form as she did. Fire flared and those pink locks lifted from a sourceless breeze. It couldn't have been plainer that they were compatible enough, and Soul had lost his chance.

After that he had ditched. There wasn't much point in sticking around waiting for the inevitable humiliation of being the last unpartnered first year. He'd rather escape with his reputation intact, thanks.

How he had managed to find his way into the only room in the entire school that had a damn piano in it, he wasn't sure. Just figured, right? He had traveled almost three thousand miles across the entire continent and he _still_ couldn't seem to get away from it.

He raised the fallboard, brushing long fingers lightly over the contrasting keys, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, hearing the ghosts of unwritten melodies filtering through his mind. He pondered slamming it shut again, because there was no way in _hell_ he was actually contemplating following his father's parting command that he 'not forget to practice.'

But...

What was he gonna do if he couldn't find a partner? He needed a meister if he had any hope of actually succeeding here. And that was the whole point. He couldn't be a musician, but maybe he could be a hero, right? But he was no good without someone to wield him, and if he couldn't find a meister, he was going to have to go running back home with his tail between his legs, a failure.

Again.

The idea made his stomach writhe. He couldn't go back to that house. Wes was always on tour, hardly ever home, and his so-called parents were usually following Wes around. The _good_ son.

Soul snorted. No, there wasn't much waiting for him back in Connecticut. He had to find a way to make Shibusen work, because the scythe gene was his escape hatch and he couldn't fail at this, too.

"Hello?"

Soul did _not_ jump at the soft feminine voice from the doorway. When he had recovered from his _totally natural and therefore totally cool_ response to being startled by the sudden intrusion upon his solitude, he turned to face the source of the voice and found himself face to face with a girl. He almost stumbled backward in surprise because she'd crossed the room and was standing closer to him than he'd expected.

"Hey," he said.

"My name's Maka Albarn," she said with a bright smile.

"Soul Eater." He gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

She laughed. "Kind of ironic name, isn't it?" she asked.

"Uh, sure?" He was thrown more than just a little off-guard by this girl. She was taller than him, but he wasn't surprised. All girls were taller than him, and he was infinitely glad for the reassurance Wes had given him that all that would be over in a few years. Being eye-level with girls' chins was not cool. But Maka, for all that she had an inch or two on him, was tiny in all other aspects, from tiny hands to tiny tits. Giving her another once-over, Soul amended that thought. Not everything about her was tiny. She seemed to be made of nothing but legs and huge green eyes, her face framed by ash-blonde hair pulled up into pigtails. He was pretty sure he'd seen her in the hall earlier, but he'd avoided her. She was so petite, she'd be better off with a smaller weapon, and embarrassing girls by being too heavy for them to wield wasn't cool.

"Nice to meet you, Soul Eater," she said politely, derailing his train of thought. "Are you here for the partnering session?"

He jerked one shoulder. "Yep."

"Not going so well for you either?" she guessed. Her mouth twisted up into a chagrined pout as she glanced back toward the deserted hallway outside.

Soul shook his head. "Not so much, no."

She sighed. "I wonder if I'm being too picky," she mused, apparently more to herself than him.

Weird girl...

Suddenly, those dusty olive eyes fixed on him with rather shocking intensity and she asked, "Weapon or meister?"

"Huh?"

"Are you a weapon or a meister?"

"Weapon," he replied.

Something sparked in her eyes and Soul thought he knew where her train of thought was headed. As he had before, he had serious doubts about their compatibility, but he figured he might as well humor her if she actually was thinking what he thought she was. It wasn't like he had many options left, anyway.

"What kind of weapon?" she asked eagerly.

"Scythe," he tossed out.

She bounced up on her toes in excitement, her expression visibly delighted. "Really?" she asked eagerly. "That's awesome! Scythes are rare!"

He nodded. He was extremely aware of that fact, and it was a part of the reason the meisters who had approached him had bothered in the first place. A scythe was an in-demand weapon because of its rarity and dexterity, and as far as he was aware, there were only eight or nine active scythes besides himself on the planet, one of whom was Shinigami-sama's current weapon of choice.

"Take it you're a meister, then?" he asked.

She nodded, beaming. "Definitely. Like my mom."

"Nice."

She shuffled her feet, that sunshine grin of hers turning a little shy. "So do you maybe want to see if we'd be compatible partners?"

Soul contemplated her for a long moment. He felt like this girl should annoy him, all bright and bubbly and smiley and stuff, but something about her seemed _different_, somehow. There was intelligence in her gaze, and he liked that. He didn't want to partner with a moron. Based on first impressions, she seemed assertive without being too pushy, and Shinigami knew she was _friendly_. Pretty, and now that he was seeing her up close he could see the strong muscles in her calves and thighs, both of which were bared by her short uniform skirt. He couldn't see her arms beneath the wool blazer of the Shibusen uniform, but he was willing to bet they bore the same layer of wiry muscle. (On another note, why had she bothered to wear the uniform? It wasn't mandatory, and most of the other kids had shown up in business casual.) She'd said her mom was a meister, too, right? Maybe she'd been training before being accepted to the academy or something. He immediately revised his earlier assumption that she wouldn't be strong enough to wield him.

Yeah, he decided. If they were soul compatible, he could work with this girl. She wasn't quite what he'd had in mind, but maybe that was a good thing. Soul liked having a plan, but he also knew that you couldn't always follow the plan. Thinking on your feet was a survival skill. Improvisation. He'd always been good at improvisation. He could learn to play in her key.

The question was, could she work with him? He wasn't sure. She seemed so... so...

So exactly the opposite of everything he was. He didn't want to agree to work with her only to have her get freaked out by him and bail sometime down the line. It wasn't an uncommon reaction to him. He needed to be sure that she understood exactly what she was getting herself into with him. But how to do that? Saying "By the way, no matter how cool I am I'm an emotionally reclusive smartass with more issues than Rolling Stone" didn't really seem to be an option.

His eyes slid to the piano, and an idea occurred to him.

He _had_ always been good at improvisation, after all.

"Do you know much about music?" He looked back at her.

"Um. What?" She was clearly puzzled by his non-response to her question.

"Just answer me before you suggest partnering up," he said.

"Not really. My mom played the flute in elementary school, but she'd stopped by the time she entered Shibusen, and my dad's not musical at all."

He nodded. Okay, even better. This was a no-risk situation. Well, as no-risk as baring his soul in a way that seemed far more intimate to him than soul resonance could be, anyway. She wouldn't like what she was going to hear, but she didn't know enough about music to explain it in embarrassing detail to anybody else. The worst that could happen was that he would be rejected. Again.

"Listen," he commanded her, turning away to seat himself at the bench. "This is who I am."

And, after taking a moment to revel in the fact that no one was going to yell at him and tell him that his poor posture was undermining his technique, Soul put his fingers to the keyboard and began to play.

He poured himself into the music, every dark, twisted part of himself. It was a chaotic piece, tempo rubato, discordant and in a minor key, full of harsh tone clusters that leapt abruptly from the driving, flowing melody line abruptly. His soul actually ached from the playing, because he could hear Heartless Soul Evans in every note and he felt critically exposed. His shoulders hunched over the keyboard even more than usual in defense, but his fingers did not falter, and the harmonic structure changed to something a little sweeter, still in minor key but harmonically more unified. Even as he did so, though, he slowed his tempo and dropped the volume, introducing more accidentals and unexpected skips. He was pouring out into the music, every insecurity, every complex, every single thought he'd ever had that made him question his own sanity... it was all there, laid bare before the meister who was surely cringing away behind him.

It was not a long improvisation. He could only stand the exposure for so long, even if she didn't know what it all meant. A few minutes at most. And when the notes jangled discordantly away into silence, he sat cringing at the keyboard awaiting judgment. People who didn't know what they were talking about tolerated his playing well enough when he played other peoples work (his technique _was_ decent, after all), but no one could stand his original compositions.

The soft sound of the applause of a girl in pigtails and a pleated skirt issued from behind him. "That was amazing," she chirped, and if he hadn't been able to hear the genuine note in her voice (he didn't think she was really one for insincerity, anyway), he would have thought she was making fun of him.

Soul sat in shock for a brief second. Someone... actually _liked_ his playing? This was not a development he'd been expecting.

Well, there had to be a first time for everything, right?

This might actually work. She knew what she was getting herself into now, at least. But just to be absolutely sure, he glanced over his shoulder and flashed her the toothiest shark's smile he could manage. He doubted that his teeth would scare her off the way they had that other girl if his music couldn't, but he had to check.

Maka Albarn, the first person to ever enjoy hearing Soul Evans play the piano, returned his smile tenfold. "So, partners?" She extended a hand for him to shake.

He swung his legs over the bench so he was facing her, and reached out to take her hand.

An immediate sensation of... the best word he could come up with was _awareness_, flooded from the place their skin had met and caused his soul to chime sharply in acknowledgement. His eyes widened and Maka's did the same. He didn't even have to phase into his weapon form to know that their souls were compatible. His soul _recognized_ hers, acknowledged it as a match, and he could see that she was experiencing the same sensation. It tingled a little.

"I guess we are," he said, getting to his feet without letting go of her hand.

* * *

**A/N2-** As this is, strictly speaking, my first attempt at writing these characters, I would appreciate some feedback on my success or failure. Also, as I have already noted, I'm not quite finished with the manga yet, so if I've forgotten or missed something important, feel free to let me know. Due to the nature of this story I'm kind of playing it fast and loose with original canon (both anime and manga), but I don't mind you questioning whether something was a deliberate change or just me fucking up because I haven't got the series memorized yet. In fact, I'd appreciate it. The readers are a writer's watchdogs, especially in a medium like .


End file.
